Sleep of Reason
by coprolite blend
Summary: Jim gets turned to a kid. Chaos/Hilarity/Discovery ensues. Eventual Slash. ETA  30Nov2010 : two new chapters.
1. Guard Thee At Rest

**Chapter Title:** Guard Thee At Rest  
**Prompt:** Serenade  
**Universe:** STXI  
**Rating:** PG (for swearing)**  
Genre:** Friendship  
**Trope:** De-age/kidfic  
**Warnings:** None  
**Summary:** He should have known that no matter how peaceful their mission is, the Captain, more often than not, causes trouble, especially to himself, and by extension to Spock.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Star Trek & its universe; the (Pattern) Jugglers is not mine - just borrowed them. =)

**Notes:** A prompt from the **schmoop_bingo** card a friend gave me.

"_Childhood is the sleep of reason." ~ _Jean-Jacques Rousseau

* * *

The door slides open, and the first thing he does is search for the Captain of the _Enterprise_, who is _evidently_ not among the crewmembers who are just beamed aboard. He pointedly looks at the Head Security Officer tasked to guard the Captain, Lieutenant Michael Wheeler, for an explanation.

Their premature return to the ship is not a good sign; it's never a good sign. It indicates that either the mission has gone from good to bad or from bad to worse, or something entirely not planned has occurred, which is worrying enough. Their mission is simple - a trade negotiation with the Jugglers, and Spock has been fairly certain that nothing will go wrong. He's mistaken, apparently.

"Where is the Captain," demands Spock, his tone very much controlled, but his aura is too menacing that the ensign manning the transporter has flinched and the other has cowered into the nearest wall. The Vulcan ignores their reactions, eyes steadily regarding the Lieutenant he's questioned.

"Sir," the burly man stands straighter; the remaining three officers mirror his action. "He's- um. He's with us, Commander."

Spock's too concerned for his Captain to even arch his brow. He does _not see_ him anywhere with them on the pad. "Clarify."

Just then, a loud cry emits from behind the three officers. Lieutenant Wheeler turns around to Science Officer Reyes, who's carrying an object in her arms, rocking it gently up and down, side-to-side and making hushing sounds.

"Damn, he woke up," whispers Ensign Dubois to Ensign Roberts by the woman's side.

It is then that Spock discerns the command gold cloth that wraps the wailing object. He strides towards the pad as the officers move aside, stopping in front of the ensign, who gives him a worried glance while she continues to rock and try to shush the object.

Or rather, the infant. An infant whose hair is golden brown, cheeks plump and rosy pink, face crunched, and its nose and eyes are wet.

His head snaps to Lieutenant Wheeler, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Wheeler visibly swallows under the Commander's piercing gaze, stepping behind Ensign Reyes. "H-he's a - umm, a baby, Sir."

"Evidently," Spock clips before turning to the quivering forms of the ensigns by the transporter consoles. "Send for Doctor McCoy."

The infant continues to wail loudly and it's starting to hurt Spock's sensitive hearing.

He doesn't know what possesses him, but Spock reaches for the infant, taking the Captain from the frustrated Science Officer. The wailing becomes snivels in one-point-three seconds flat. The Vulcan hides his surprise by blinking down at those blue eyes that are looking up at him in surprised wonder before the infant smiles, showing two small incisors.

There is a swishing sound and Spock directs his eyes to the entrance. Doctor McCoy comes barging, tricorder in hand, and an entourage of medical nurses, together with a gurney, enters with him.

"What the hell happened?" the doctor cries as he jogs up the pad. "It's a fucking banque-" He halts and blinks at the baby in Spock's arms. "What the fuck is that?"

"This," Spock says patiently, "is the Captain."

McCoy stares at Spock for a moment, dumbfounded. "You're telling me, that that baby is James Tiberius Kirk. The hell?"

"Indeed."

* * *

In Sickbay, Doctor McCoy examines the baby, cursing profanities, while Kirk, whose face is now free of any form of fluid (mucus and tears) and is clothed with an absorbent garment, a black shirt and black socks, clutches his tiny hand around the Vulcan's forefinger as he lies quietly on the bed, gurgling laughter once in a while.

When he has handed the infant to Doctor McCoy earlier in the transporter room, Jim has screeched and tried to reach out for Spock with his short, pudgy arms. The only solution was to take Jim back, which yielded a satisfactory result - the infant calmed down.

Lieutenant Wheeler is presently reporting to the Commander. He states that none of them knows exactly what happened. They were eating, drinking, dancing and enjoying the festivity when the Lady Liadlaw, the leader of the Jugglers, approached Lieutenant Uhura and handed her the baby. The Juggler has told her the identity of the infant, explaining the circumstances. It appears that the Captain has told the Lady Liadlaw that he misses being a child sometimes, so the Juggler has turned back his time as a form of gift, resulting to the transformation.

They weren't even aware that the Jugglers have such capability.

"Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Sulu?" Spock asks blandly.

Wheeler clears his throat. "They're continuing the negotiations, Sir. A-and I think Lieutenant Sulu threa- threatened the Jugglers if they don't return the Captain to… his old self."

That is unacceptable; they cannot afford to lose the alliance with the Jugglers. "Return to the festivity," he commands. "Have them report immediately to me as soon as the negotiations are done. They are not to act hostile with the Jugglers."

The Lieutenant salutes and scampers out of the Sickbay as Spock turns his attention to the infant.

The Jugglers are a peaceful race, known to store memories and record the minds of whoever encounters them. Their planet, Vaita, is rich of benarium crystals, a naturally-synthesized form of benamite, which can be used in the power systems of a starship, similar to dilithium but more efficient. The Federation has been trading with them for ten years, and the _Enterprise_ was sent to their planet to renew the contracts for another decade, or perhaps more.

"Aren't you even going to go down there and give them a piece of your Vulcan mind?" Doctor McCoy scowls, glaring at him.

Spock doesn't answer. Instead, he says, "What is the Captain's condition?"

McCoy grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. "His vitals are normal: heart rate, respiration, physiological and neural functions. He has two eyes, a nose, two ears, a drooling mouth, four limbs, five fingers in each hand and five digits in each foot." He puts the PADD on the biobed. "In other words, Jim's a healthy, twenty-pound, twelve-month old baby."

"I see," is Spock's only response, a bit distracted as Jim helplessly tries to pull his finger.

"Yep. Even though he was born prematurely then - weighing of only five pounds, he's pretty much as fit as a fiddle right now." Then he adds, "Aside from his usual allergies."

There are a few minutes of comfortable silence, with the exceptions of the machineries' beeps and chirps, before Doctor McCoy breaks it. "That's it? You're just gonna stay up here? You should be waging war at them, you overgrown, emotionless elf! They turned Jim into a baby! A _baby_, Spock!"

"Which is a gift, as the Lady Liadlaw had stated," Spock answers calmly.

"And you believe her? How in damnation are we going to explain this to Starfleet?" McCoy screams, his arms flailing about.

"The Lady Liadlaw has caused no harm to the Captain," he says, eyes remaining on Jim, who is laughing and shifting his limbs; Spock stays immobile despite the infant's movements. "Additionally, if the situation was truly dire, Lieutenant Uhura or Lieutenant Sulu would have stated otherwise. With the matters of the report, I will handle that at a later time."

"Are we fucking looking at the same thing, Spock?" McCoy argues, voice still loud. "Jim is a _baby_! How the fuck are we going to change him back when I don't even know where to begin?"

Before Spock can answer, Lieutenant Sulu comes running in, making both he and McCoy face the new arrival.

"Thank goodness he's alright," Sulu exclaims, panting. "How is he, Doctor?"

"Report, Lieutenant," orders Spock, preventing McCoy to react.

Sulu appears to remember himself as he looks at the Commander. "Lieutenant Uhura is grilling them, Sir. They're also revising the contract."

"I don't fucking care about the damn negotiation!" bursts McCoy, stepping close to Sulu, jabbing a finger onto his chest. "Did those damn amphibians say anything to turn Jim back?"

"They said it's only temporary," Sulu replies, nervously, sending fleeting glances at the hypospray in McCoy's other hand. "That he'll be aging a year every twenty-four hours until he reaches his original age, and then everything will be back to the way it was."

"Every twenty-four hours," McCoy repeats with a glare. "Can't they just turn him back now?"

"Um, well," the helmsman begins, hesitant. "They - um, they don't want to."

The doctor grabs Sulu's collar with one hand, their faces close as McCoy points a finger near the other's eye; Sulu leans away as far as he can. "You fucking tell them to undo what they fucking did to Jim or I'll give you a damn lobotomy this fucking instant!"

Sulu weakly turns to Spock for help, to which the Vulcan just raises his eyebrow. He then looks at the doctor. "W-we tried, but the Lady Liadlaw says that's not what the Captain wants."

"The Captain doesn't know what he wants! He's a fucking baby!" McCoy screams, his voice booming as he shoves Sulu. He glowers at Spock. "If you're not going down there, then I damn _will_!"

"Do not give me a reason to place you in the brig, Doctor," Spock warns as he feels Jim's fright. Doubtless it is caused by the Medical Officer's outbursts. "We cannot lose the only planet which can provide Starfleet with benarium."

"Is that all you can fucking think about, you cold-blooded bastard?" McCoy accuses vehemently; Spock can feel his anger at their three-point-two meters of distance from each other. "Look at what they did to Jim!"

"He will return to his correct age in five hundred seventy-five-point-three hours." The Vulcan then picks up the infant under the arms, arranging the thick cloth around the small body as he cradles him. "As you are finished with the Captain's physical analysis, I will take him to his quarters. Lieutenant Sulu, return to the surface and aid Lieutenant Uhura with the negotiation. Failure is not an option."

McCoy blocks his path. "Wait just a damn minute. You can't take him anywhere! You don't even know how to handle adult humans let alone a baby."

Spock regards him coolly. "The Captain wails at your touch and anyone else's. I appear to be the only one he does not repulse. It is therefore only logical that I serve as his guardian until he will welcome other's contact."

With that, Spock leaves Sickbay, but not quickly enough to avoid hearing McCoy's curses.

* * *

To be quite honest, Spock doesn't have the faintest idea on how to take care of a child, an infant. Doctor McCoy has been correct with his judgment - that he doesn't know how to do this, but that doesn't mean he cannot try. It is true that the infant Captain doesn't react well with other's touches. For instance, when Nurse Chapel has been clothing Jim in Sickbay, the infant has screamed and cried. It is only when he has caught Spock's finger that he quieted down.

Odd. Spock doesn't know why such is so.

Jim is at ease at this moment, joyous and enthusiastic. He moves around Spock's hold while the Vulcan walks, twisting as he surveys the surroundings. He occasionally giggles as well, and places his saliva-coated fingers on Spock's cheeks and forehead from time to time. Even as an infant, the Captain is certainly never still, he thinks as he fixes his arms around him when they've reached the turbolift.

"Captain's quarters," he says and the lift comes to life.

It is not that Spock is unconcerned with the Captain's current condition. The only reason he's calm about the matter is because he personally knows the Lady Liadlaw, and he trusts that her intention is without malice. The Lady and he have met when he has accompanied his father in one of his travels; he was fifteen years, six months and ten days old. They were in Risa then, where Sarek were to meet with Mistress T'Pol, who was there to give Sarek some information Spock wasn't privy to. It was during his exploration of Suraya Bay that he has encountered the Juggler.

The Lady Liadlaw was by the sea, bathing at the two suns' heat. She has a pale blue skin, seemingly like the ocean, silver hair pooling on the sands, and obviously bipedal as her legs were stretched out. Spock, being a curious individual even then, has approached the alien he has never seen or heard before. They spoke for a length of time and Spock was surprised that she knew how to speak Standard. She has explained that their species are called Jugglers, or in their local tongue,_Mekh'iem_, and that her home planet, Vaita, lies on Beta Quadrant, near the border of Alpha Quadrant, approximately four-point-twenty-one light years from Risa. Spock inquired as to why there were no records of them in the Federation system. If they were a known species, surely there would have been some documentation regarding them.

As they continued to exchange information, Spock discovered that the _Mekh'iem_are not much of space explorers, preferring the ocean to the emptiness of space. They are, however, capable of space fairing - as evidence of the Lady Liadlaw's presence on the planet. They are also not much of an exploring species, but they welcome those who come in contact with their planet. Their conversation, disappointedly, ended when Spock's communicator beeped; his father had him summoned.

Three years, two months and seven days has passed after their encounter that Spock has heard the news that they have joined the Federation due to the fact that the_Shariv_, a Vulcan exploration ship, has made contact with the Jugglers. It was then that it was discovered that Vaita has a rare mineral greatly needed for starships - the benarium crystals. Spock has had another opportunity to meet with the Lady Liadlaw when she has visited Risa again in twenty-one-point two months after their species joined the Federation.

"Po," says Jim suddenly, tapping Spock's cheeks with a giggle, breaking the Vulcan's chain of thoughts. "Po!"

Spock lifts an eyebrow, halting his steps just outside the turbolift as he stares at boy. This is the first time infant Jim has spoken, and his first word, oddly enough, is "Po". Perhaps he is trying to articulate Spock's name.

Reaching their destination, Spock enters the room, quite pleased with its clean and neat state. He gently places Kirk on the center of the soft mattress. The infant laughs lightly, clapping his hands and legs together.

"Po!" Jim says again; his blue eyes seem to be twinkling like far off twin stars in the dimness of the room.

"Fascinating," mutters Spock, particularly to no one.

Jim then suddenly rolls to the left, and with Spock's swift reflexes, he's able to stop the Captain from going over the edge on the other side. Clearly, the Vulcan needs to barricade the bed if he were to leave him on his own. Then again, a youngling of Jim's age requires constant supervision.

As he is now the Acting Captain of the _Enterprise_, it is his responsibility to manage the ship, but he cannot bequeath Jim to someone else's care for aforementioned reasons. Nor can he bring him to the bridge during his shift, to the laboratories to conduct experiments or during away missions. He tries not to sigh at the conundrum. Lieutenant-Commander Scott will just have to oversee both his and the Captain's duties for the time being.

For now, he has to make the overly active infant, who is squirming at his hold, sleep, so he can at least issue the orders and make a ship-wide announcement regarding changes due to the situation.

Yet the question remains, how's he to put Jim to sleep? He sits on the bed, hands over Jim's stomach to prevent him from rolling away again.

He can tire the infant by playing with him, but seeing the energy Jim possesses, that can take _hours_. No, Spock violently shakes his head, there will be _no_ nerve-pinching. That is _not_ an option. A mind-meld-induced sleep is also absolutely out of the equation. There's no telling what the side effects of such powerful telepathy are to an _infant human_.

Spock gradually lies on his side, an arm curled under his head while he keeps his booted-feet hanging out of the bed. He lets his other hand hover over the Captain as Jim twists towards him and starts crawling over his torso, which Spock allows, angling his body to accommodate him. As he repeatedly brushes the soft mop of Jim's hair, he unconsciously starts to drone _Brahm's Lullaby_, a soothing song his mother used to sing to him as a child at night.

Jim openly smiles at him with a high-pitched series of laughter. "Po!"

The song is hummed forty-three times and the Captain yawns, lying the side of his head on Spock's chest. Another sixteen repetitions, Jim's breathing ultimately settles on an even rhythm - he is, finally, asleep. But Spock continues on, smoothly stroking the Captain's back in a languid manner.

It will be one hour and seven minutes before Spock will carefully settle Jim on the mattress, and will then contact Mister Scott on the bridge. He will also, most definitely, ignore the questioning look the Chief Engineer will give him.

Spock will need not ask what the strange glance is for; he already knows that there is an irregular-shaped stain on his uniform's front from Jim's drooling.

.

.

**TBC**


	2. BlueEyed Monster

**Chapter Title:** Blue-Eyed Monster  
**Prompt:** Baby - feeding  
**Universe:** STXI  
**Rating:** PG (for swearing)**  
Genre:** Friendship  
**Trope:** De-age/kidfic**  
Summary:** The almost two-year old Captain still wouldn't let anyone take care of him other than his Vulcan First Officer.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Star Trek & its universe; the (Pattern) Jugglers is not mine - just borrowed them. =)

**Notes:** A prompt from the **schmoop_bingo** card a friend gave me.

* * *

The palace halls are indeed a wondrous sight. It is cool and dimly lit, giving him a sense of being underwater. Of course the large aquarium in front of him only heightens the sensation, as it serves as walls of this specific hallway. The large tank stretches nineteen-point-zero-six meters and is fifteen-point-nine meters high - or in the least, that's how much Spock estimates it. There is difficulty in measuring its exact height since he hasn't seen the top rim of the tank. It is filled with marine organisms, much similar to Terra's _Chrysaora fuscescens_, randomly floating within the water. These creatures, however, emits yellow-greenish bioluminescence, possibly a result of symbiosis with unknown bacteria.

"Spock," a smooth voice calls in a perfect Vulcan pronunciation. He turns to her, accepting the soft kiss of her lips on both his cheeks and forehead. It is a form of greeting Jugglers give to those they consider in close relationship with them. "It is pleasing to see you."

"As you are, Lady Liadlaw," Spock says, noting her appearance that hasn't change since he had first met her. She wears an electric-white robe, hiding most of her bluish skin, a similarly-colored band on her head as her silver hair cascades freely on her back. Her eyes remain a fascination to him, as its pupils are black with a thin gold ring around it, making it appear similar to a total solar eclipse.

She smiles with her darkened lips. "How are you fairing?"

"I am in an optimal condition." He then goes straight to the point. "I trust that the contract is prepared to be signed?"

"Come," she gestures, taking one of his gloved-hand. They walk through the halls, Spock observing the marbled-like statues they pass by.

Despite meeting her prior to this mission, Spock doesn't know much of Vaita's culture, same as the rest of the known universe. It is not that they are secretive with their practices and traditions, it is simply because they do not forcefully flaunt it to any of their visitors or guests. The same can be said to their abilities to accumulate memories and thoughts into their own minds.

The _Mekh'iem_ are not telepathic beings, instead they have neuroreceptors in their palms that acts akin to a Vulcan mind-link, instantly sending thoughts and random memories into their brains. In turn, they can also send their own thoughts to those who they have touched, but they cannot speak into one's mind. They can, however, create a state of illusion imagery.

But perhaps the most disconcerting fact about the Jugglers is their ability to manipulate a being's time in the physical reality, which resulted to the Captain's present condition.

They arrive in a fully furnished room, with red carpets on the floor, tables and divans, and glassed ornaments. Again, there is a large aquarium facing the neat lounge. The blue lights that flood the accommodation are strangely calming.

The Lady Liadlaw motions on the coralline-stoned divan, wherein Spock sits as she does the same. "Now," she says, removing her hand from his and taking the compad from the short table in front of them. "This is the revised contract between_Mekh'iem_ and the Federation. I trust you have reviewed your own copy of it."

"Yes," Spock says, glancing on the device she places between them. "I must confess, the change of the trade duration is unexpected."

She smiles as though she knows Spock only told her a half-truth statement. "The reactions I've received from your crew were quite animated. However, I am not remorseful of my actions towards Captain Kirk. He has such several unpleasant memories."

Of course he's heard rumours about the Captain's past. "My officers have reported the events surrounding the Captain's transformation. I wish for you to tell me your side of the occurrence."

"Wouldn't it be easier if I just show you?" she asks, blinking vertically.

Indeed it would, yet he cannot allow such invasion. "You are aware that my race values privacy, and we are not capable of blocking your innate abilities."

"Oh," she says before inclining her head and closing her eyes. When she opens them again, she regards Spock. "My apologies. Although our species can amass memories and thoughts, we cannot always remember what we've stored. Still, we are able to access it at any given time."

"I understand. Your narrative, Lady Liadlaw," he prompts.

She looks at the aquarium. "We were talking about his - what did he call it? - ah, escapades when he was in the Starfleet Academy. Then I asked about several things that led Captain Kirk to mention that if he's ever given a chance for a second childhood, then he'll take it. I told him that I might have a way to grant his desire. He had laughed and said for me to do it." The Lady Liadlaw's gaze moves to Spock's. "And I did."

"I believe the Captain has doubted you," says Spock, familiar with Jim's code of speech. "Thus, he had wanted you to prove it."

"Perhaps," she remarks quietly. "But to meet his challenge is not my reason. Captain Kirk, he's an honorable man."

"Indeed," agrees Spock. "However, I request that you restore the Captain to his previous state, Lady Liadlaw. The ship needs its captain. We cannot venture further with him at his current condition."

She tips her head backwards and clicks her tongue. "I refuse, Spock." The Vulcan waits for her explanation, to which she provides. "Captain Kirk truly needs to experience a second childhood. He much desires it. Do not be too concern, no harm will come to him as he ages. His growth will be as though it is a natural occurrence."

"How is it that your species have the ability to manipulate a being's time?"

"Not all of us," she says. "It is perhaps caused by our evolution. You are aware that we, ourselves, know not of our origin, correct? It has only been recent that this ability has manifested in myself. I cannot elucidate more for even I do not comprehend it. "

"I understand," begins Spock, "that part of the contract states that no other sentient being, even Starfleet headquarters and members of the United Federation of Planets, is to have this knowledge. That is your reason behind the extension of the trade duration for seventy-five Terran years."

"We are wary," explains the Lady Liadlaw. "Vaita's defenses are mediocre at best. We cannot allow this knowledge to fall to those who might enslave us. If a_Mekh'iem_ is captured, apoptosis is our only option."

"Tha-" His communicator cuts him off. "Excuse me," he abruptly says, standing and moving to the corner as he flips the communicator open. "This is Spock."

"Get back up here, you damn elf!" comes Doctor McCoy's urgent tone.

There is a mixture of noise in the background that is thunderous in the silence of the room he's in. "I am currently-"

"I don't care!" McCoy yells. "Jim's been crying for the last fifteen minutes and if this keeps up, he's damn going to damage his tiny larynx!"

"I am on my way," Spock hurriedly says and flicks his communicator down. He turns to the Lady Liadlaw, who is now standing in front of him. "I must return to the _Enterprise_ immediately."

"Here."

Grateful for her consideration, Spock takes the stylus, signing his name below the Juggler's signature on the compad before handing it back to her. "I will send Lieutenant Uhura to retrieve a copy of the contract."

The Lady Liadlaw smiles. "We must speak more. Bring Captain Kirk in your next visit."

They still have much to talk about. Spock shakes his head from side-to-side to show that he agrees as he opens his communicator. "_Enterprise_, one to beam up."

* * *

"Jesus-Mary-Joseph! Finally!" exclaims Doctor McCoy, who is rocking a crying Jim in his arms, the moment Spock steps within their viewing range. "Take this blue-eyed monster." He transfers the infant to him, and Jim gradually quiets down.

Spock wisely doesn't say anything as he takes the towel from McCoy's outstretched hand, and gently wipes the tears and mucus off of Jim's face. Jim then moves his tiny arms around Spock's neck - or tries to, the back of his head resting against the crook, sniffling.

He's only been gone for two hours and forty-three minutes and this happens. It's not that the doctor is incompetent - the man has a daughter after all, it is just due to Jim being a demanding infant (of Spock's presence).

"I don't get it," McCoy remarks, strangely composed, as he watches them, arms folded on his chest.

The Vulcan has one palm on Jim's head, supporting. "Doctor?"

He gestures his hand up and down to Spock. "This. Him. You." McCoy sits on the chair and crosses one leg over the other. "He was pretty much calm when he woke up, even when I ran some tests on him. He was laughing at Chapel's cooing too. But then he started crying when she changed his diaper and clothes. He only stopped because he fell asleep. Probably got tired after all those tests and screaming."

If that is so, then, "Why was the Captain-"

"Because he woke up again," the doctor supplies, irritation showing on his face. "I figured he's hungry, but then he wouldn't even let me feed him. I even gave him a rattler for distraction. It didn't work. Joanna wasn't as difficult as this, believe me."

Jim moves within his hold, imitating a climb, and Spock suddenly gasps, surprise as a shudder runs down his spine. "Doctor," he says, imperceptibly swallowing. "I believe the Captain is in need of sustenance at this moment."

McCoy raises his eyebrow at him. "You can tell that with your hoodoo?" he asks in a genuine, curious tone.

"Negative," Spock answers, stiff as a rod. "He is gnawing my ear."

Three times, the doctor blinks before he reacts accordingly: he loudly snorts, one loosely closed hand over his mouth, cheeks puffed; his shoulders shakes; then he roars out his laughter.

The Vulcan narrows his eyes; it is not amusing. McCoy continues with his mirth, head thrown back. He allows the doctor to finish, but every time McCoy's laughter subsides, it begins again. And Jim is still trying to consume his pinnacle with his newly-sprouted teeth. "If that will be all, Doctor, the Captain and I shall be in the mess hall."

He's just turned when McCoy calls him. "Wait, wait," the doctor says between sniggers. Spock patiently glances back at him, arranging Jim in his arms to prevent the infant from biting him more as the doctor walks towards him. "Hold your horses there, Hobglobin." McCoy shows him a PADD with a big grin. "Here's the-" he chuckles, "complete list of his allergies."

Spock reaches for the device but the doctor swings it away. "Doctor, it is necessary that I become familiar with the Captain's hypersensitivity to victuals."

"Sure," McCoy mocks, waving the PADD to his face. "But I'm going with you."

"Unnecessary."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

* * *

The Vulcan is especially aware of the odd glances the crew is sending to his direction, and as per usual, he ignores it. He's experienced a similar reaction from them the first occasion he and the Captain has shared a table in the mess hall, and eleven more times after that before the crew have become accustomed to it. Now, the crew just has to get used to their present situation. Perhaps he should have just taken the Captain to his quarters for this.

Opposite of him sits Doctor McCoy, who is not even hiding his amusement as he chews his meal.

Jim, on the other hand, is on his lap, eating. Or at least, he was.

The still one-year old Captain has well-developed motor skills at this age and he has been eating by himself, until he's lost interest and started playing with the food after one bite. There are smudges of mashed banana around his tiny mouth, all over his hands, on his bib and on Spock's uniform.

"Po!" tiny Jim laughs, extending his arms towards Spock, opening and closing his hands. "Fu! Fu!"

Spock silently stares at him, firmly holding Jim's small hips to prevent him from accidentally falling over.

"You should eat," McCoy smirks. "He's offering you to."

From Jim's hands? Absolutely not, Spock thinks with an internal grimace. "And how have you discern this, Doctor?"

"Because he's saying 'fu' to you, Spock," Lieutenant Uhura answers as she settles beside him. "It's easy to understand that what he means is 'food'."

Spock glances at her. "Do you have the contract, Lieutenant?"

"Yes. I've sent it to your terminal in your quarters," she says and starts to eat. "By the way, the Lady Liadlaw wants to see you again tomorrow, at zero-eight-hundred, ship's time. They're inviting all the crew of the _Enterprise_ for another banquet. Some sort of a farewell party."

The Vulcan nods.

Nyota is looking at him with questions in her eyes. "She also mentioned that you've met in Risa fourteen years ago, that she _knows_ you before their species joined the Federation. Want to tell me about that?"

Something in her tone indicates she dislikes that fact. Spock merely lifts an eyebrow, which earns him a mild glare from Nyota.

"Wait," Doctor McCoy interjects, a palm in mid-air. "You've met the Juggler before? In Risa of all places?" He then grins. "You sly dog!"

Risa has been called 'the pleasure planet' throughout the known universe; Spock knows exactly what the doctor is implying. "It is of no import, Doctor, Nyota," Spock simply says.

"Oh it is of import, Spock," counters Nyota, serious. "How about telling us what _exactly_ is your relationship with her?"

Fortunately, Spock is spared to answer.

"There's the bairn!" exclaims Lieutenant-Commander Scott by the entrance. He bounces to their table and drops beside the doctor, bumping their shoulders as the Chief Engineer balances himself in the seat; Doctor McCoy glowers at him. "Bonnie lad, isn't he?"

"I suppose he's cute," agrees Nyota reluctantly, peeking at the child before looking back at Spock.

Scott attempts to touch the Captain's cheek over the table, but the doctor grabs his arm. "Don't. If he starts crying again, I _swear_ to God I'm gonna sedate you. My ears are still ringing from all the screaming he did back in Sickbay."

The engineer reluctantly withdraws with a frown.

"He's still not used to being touch by others?" Nyota asks in wonder.

The doctor shakes his head. "Nope, only if he doesn't know about it. And don't ask me why Jim chose the hobglobin here. For the last nine months, Jim does nothing but complain about him having a stick up his ass."

"Language, Doctor," Nyota chides, to which McCoy just grumbles.

"Po! Fuu~u!" Jim says again.

Spock looks down at his Captain, who is blissfully smiling up at him. He was not aware that the Captain shares his discontent with him to the doctor. Although it is understandable since McCoy and Jim are what humans call 'friends'. He and the Captain do have disagreements often, but it is still distressing to hear it coming from the doctor.

Spock takes the bib and wipes the child's mouth clean. Taking the clean towel from his shoulder, he removes the mess on Jim's tiny hands. The Captain then begins to crawl on Spock's torso, standing on his wobbly legs with a laugh; Spock holds him under the armpits.

"Aw," Scott expresses. "He likes the Commander."

"Hmm, he does," a voice concurs. The four of them turns to its source and finds Lieutenant Sulu standing nearby with a tray of his meal. There is an evident hesitation before he rounds the table and sits beside Mister Scott. He's possibly still wary of Doctor McCoy. "How's he doing?"

"You have eyes, Sulu," snaps the doctor, stabbing the meat on his plate. "Don't you still have a damn ship to run?"

The helmsman slowly distances himself a little further from McCoy, despite Scott being between them. "My shift starts in about two hours. Scotty here is in-charge of the bridge."

"Chekov's got the conn," the Chief Engineer says. Unexpectedly, the doctor slaps the back of Scott's head. "Ow! Wha's da fer?"

"You can't-" he yells and then closes his mouth, looking at Jim. In a lower volume, he hisses, "You can't leave a seventeen-year old kid in-charge!"

"Eighteen," Scott, Sulu and Nyota correct simultaneously.

"On the contrary," Spock begins as he balances the jiggling Jim on his lap. "Ensign Chekov is capable of manning the bridge for a short time."

"Aye, C'mmander," agrees Scott, rubbing the back of his head.

"I don't care," McCoy says, glowering. "It's bad enough Jim and the hobglobin can't keep this tin can steady. Go back to the damn bridge!"

"I was lookin' fer Mister Spock here," reasons the Chief Engineer, gesturing to Spock. "Cot's ready, Sir. Dae ye want it in yer quarters or da wee lad's?"

"Shouldn't the Captain be with someone with more experience in child caring?" Uhura suddenly interjects. "Like, oh I don't know, the nurses? Rand? Spock already has a lot of things in his hands. He can't look after the Captain while he's the Acting Captain, the First Officer and Chief Science Officer, and deal with the Jugglers."

"I am fully capable of managing all my duties and responsibilities, Lieutenant," Spock defends, not knowing why Nyota has expressed such words when she's completely aware of the reasons he's caring for the Captain.

She drops her spoon with a loud clink on her plate, stands and stomps away, unfinished with her meal, leaving the four males without much of a departing word.

Scott and Sulu share a knowing look and McCoy snorts.

"You should go after her," the doctor advises. "Women have a thing for that."

"Negative, Doctor," says Spock. "It is important that the Captain finishes his meal."

"Which he's not doing much," Sulu observes. He quickly adds, "From what I'm seeing, Sir."

Indeed, the helmsman is correct. Spock arranges the Captain horizontally, head gently placed on his folded arm. Jim claps his hands together and kicks his legs with a squeal. The Vulcan then takes the bottle of soymilk on the table, and hovers the teat over Jim's mouth, to which the boy grabs the bottle, pulling and starts suckling the milk out.

Spock holds the bottle in a forty-seven-degree angle, often tilting it down to avoid choking Jim.

Three minutes pass, someone clears his throat and Spock glances up. Doctor McCoy is grinning while he eats; Lieutenant Sulu is staring at him with his mouth agape; and Mister Scott has his fingers tangled on the table, looking at him, expectantly.

Spock then remembers the Chief Engineer's earlier inquiry. "Have the cradle delivered to the Captain's quarters. Notify Yeoman Rand to equip it with appropriate materials."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Scott says as he stands and salutes. He pats Sulu's shoulder before he makes his way out of the mess hall.

Spock returns his attention to the Captain, whose eyes are closed but not asleep since he's still drinking the milk.

"Close your damn mouth, Sulu," McCoy suddenly says.

The Lieutenant does as he's told and inches away from the doctor again; he almost falls from his chair. "Sorry. I'm just getting used to the image in front of me."

"Better get used to it fast," says McCoy. "Just so you know, I'm still blaming you for this whole damn shit."

Spock blocks the men's quiet arguments as he gazes at the Captain's small form. He allows a small twitch of his lips. Mister Scott has been accurate. Jim is, undeniably… _vaksurik_.

At this age.

.

.

**TBC**

* * *

_vaksurik_ means "beautiful" in Vulcan.


	3. Phase

**Chapter Title:** Phase  
**Prompt:** kid - first injury  
**Universe:** STXI  
**Rating:** PG (for the swearing)**  
Genre:** Friendship  
**Trope:** De-age/kidfic  
**Warnings:** None  
**Additional Pairings:** (implied) Spock/Uhura, (past) Spock/others  
**Summary:** The Jugglers throw the _Enterprise_ another banquet, Jim sulks and Spock develops a headache for the first time, without suffering from any sort of trauma beforehand.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Star Trek & its universe; the (Pattern) Jugglers is not mine - just borrowed them. =)

**Notes:** (1) A prompt from the **schmoop_bingo** card a friend gave me. (2) I just had to do _that certain scene_ - it will show its significance in the later (later) chapters. (3) Oh, this is... unbeta'ed? not beta-read? Aaahh! Unedited by other people other than myself! (Same with all my fics posted here, so all mistakes are mine) =)

* * *

Soft, gentle music fills the air like wind chimes swaying to a calm breeze.

The grand hall of the _Mekh'iem_ palace is an enormous room, located at the topmost level. It is highly decorated with rich colorful paintings, white-marbled walls and columns, and floating spherical devices they call baubles, which supplies the golden illumination. The stained windows are equally large, all made of transparent aluminum - one of the materials the Federation trade in exchange for the benarium crystals acquired in Vaita. There are balconies as well, which provide a great view of the large ocean surrounding the island resident.

The highlight of the grand hall, however, is perhaps its clear ceiling. The material is similar to that of the windows, but the Jugglers have modified it to their liking. Like a magnifying glass with a magnification of approximately fifty times, it provides the viewers of the night sky, bluish like their waters, but is filled with stars.

It is nighttime here in Vaita, but the ship's time is zero-eight-eighteen hours.

"Are you quite finished, Doctor?" Spock inquires patiently, standing by the long banquet table. It is filled with familiar Federation foods, and most are vegetable-based.

Doctor McCoy grunts. "Shut your trap. I'll be done when I get done."

"I was merely in-"

"I said, zip it, Spock," the doctor cuts as he continues his ministrations. "This will be a lot faster if you're not breathing down on my damn neck."

"Doctor-"

"Will you just shut up?" McCoy scolds, turning to face the Vulcan Commander. He takes a deep breath. "Look, just give Jim some milk for the mean time, alright? I have to make sure he doesn't swell like a damn puffer fish or die when he eats one of these because of his stupid allergies. And it's a fucking long table, Spock. I haven't even checked a quarter of these foods. Give me a damn time to do my damn job."

True, yet, "The Captain has expressed his dislike of the liquid seven-point-one minutes ago. He is becoming more restless as seconds pass."

"So entertain him for now," the doctor counters, returning his tricorder over the purple jelly plate. "Take him to see those freakishly big jellyfish in the corner. Go. Shoo."

Spock raises an eyebrow at the doctor's dismissal. Did he just…? Never mind. If he were to argue more with McCoy, the longer the doctor will distinguish which foods are palatable for the Captain. Quietly, Spock arranges the squirming Jim in his arms and heeds the doctor's advice.

He takes him to the corner, in front of a large tank. Astoundingly, it works; Jim stops his wriggling. The child's eyes go wide in wonder as he taps the glass with his small hand. "Fis, Po! Fis!"

The Vulcan doesn't even bother to correct him, as he previously has. At the age of two (three in the next zero-point-one-six hours), the Captain should have been able to speak complete sentences and able to enunciate simple Standard words. Some of the articles he's read stated that six percent of human children are speech-delayed, and Jim appears to belong to that percentage. Doctor McCoy has assured him that Jim's developments are within normalcy. Spock decides to trust the Chief Medical Officer since Jim's able to comprehend simple Standard words.

Currently, the Captain is dressed in a smaller fashion of Starfleet uniform. Spock has wanted to clothe Jim with an imitation of his formal dress, but the child has thrown a tantrum and cried. Left with no other alternative, he's donned him with black cotton shirt, black slacks and a pair of black boots - all a half size bigger to accommodate his expected aging.

Jim gives him an open-mouthed smile. "Po!"

Spock slowly brushes Jim's long blond fringes to the side, resting his palm over his cheek; the child leans to his hand. It's all right to touch Jim with his hand like this, as he's wearing a pair of black neoprene gloves. Spock has known the Captain to be a tactile person, but only if Jim's the one who initiates the contact. He's noticed that Jim also slightly flinches whenever someone touches him without his knowledge. It puzzles the Vulcan to no end, but he doesn't dwell upon it. In the least, with the circumstances at present, the Captain has begun to allow a few others to care for him for a short period, namely: Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant-Commander Scott and Ensign Chekov.

"Tee, Po. Wa tee," states Jim, looking at him with a pout.

Spock glances to the direction of Doctor McCoy, who remains unfinished with the inspection. "In a while, James."

"Tee~e!"

"James," Spock gently reprimands. "Patience."

The child's lower lip quivers and his blue eyes are threatening to spill tears.

Spock rests his forehead against him, letting out a small sigh. "Please wait awhile longer," he whispers. "You will have your treat then. I promise you."

Jim shifts and rests his cheek on Spock's shoulder, head facing away. The Vulcan can only stroke Jim's back to placate him, and express his silent apologies as the toddler sulks.

A Juggler then arrives and greets them with a low, deep bow. "Commander Spock, yes? The Lady Liadlaw awaits your presence in the balcony."

Spock shakes his head, turning to the direction indicated by the Lady's subject when two armored guards suddenly blocks his path.

The same subject supplies an explanation. "Alone, Commander."

"Clarify," Spock commands with an authoritative tone, shifting his body so that Jim's back is not facing the armed guards.

"The Lady Liadlaw only wishes to speak with you," the subject says. "And only with you."

He studies them for a moment, and then says, "I will meet her shortly." The subject curtsies and leaves with the guards.

Spock sweeps his eyes around the hall, searching through the crowd. He spots Lieutenant-Commander Scott laughing by the liquor fountain with five other officers. No, not him. Doctor McCoy is still inspecting the banquet table and Lieutenant Sulu is nowhere to be found. Then, he sees Ensign Chekov talking merrily to Security Officer Tiamat. He decidedly walks towards the pair.

"Sir," Ensign Chekov straightens when he sees Spock approaching.

"I shall entrust you with the Captain for a short time," the Vulcan commands. "He is not to ingest any form of cuisine and beverages, whether he demands it or not, without Doctor McCoy's approval. Your attention must be fully focused on him. Is that understood, Ensign?"

Under his curly top, the Ensign beams. "Yes, Sir," he says, handing his drink to a surprised Ensign Tiamat, almost spilling its fill.

Spock places his lips near Jim's ear and whispers, "I will soon return, James." Jim whips his head to stare at him, puzzled. "Ensign Chekov shall watch you."

"I vill guard you vith my life, Keptin!" exclaims the teen enthusiastically.

Jim looks at the Ensign, then at Spock and back to Chekov. Reluctantly, the toddler angles his upper half towards Chekov, and Spock surrenders him to the younger man's arms.

Then, Spock proceeds to the Lady Liadlaw's whereabouts, not detecting a set of blue eyes, and a pair of dark ones following his form.

* * *

He finds her in the indicated balcony, sitting elegantly - dangerously - on the thin marbled baluster. She faces the sky, her long, glimmering red gown streaming on the floor as her braided silver hair. The moons emphasize the color of her skin, making it appear as though it is aglow.

There is an ethereal element in the sight before him. Like those centuries-old paintings he's seen in museums of Earth and the images of fairy tales his mother has had projected to his mind when he was a child. The Lady Liadlaw would be equivalent to a princess longing for an unnamed lover or monarch to rescue her from captivity.

Spock closes his eyes and breathes the cool air. How illogical. This is no make-believe; it is real.

Watching the _Mekh'iem_, he ponders whether to make his presence known or not. The statistical probability of her falling down to her death is quite high if he were to give her a fright.

"Tranquil, is it not, Spock?" she says, still looking at the night sky.

He follows her gaze to the three moons present. The middle one is full, while the other two on both ends of the arc are in wane and wax, respectively.

Stepping close to the baluster, one-point-three meters from her, Spock says, "Indeed."

The Lady Liadlaw chuckles melodiously. "It greatly reminds me of the nights I've spent in Risa."

"Vaita shares similar characteristics to the planet," says Spock. "As your species have gained technological advances, your people have long since controlled the dismal weather of Vaita and calmed the regular seismic activities, thus making the lands habitable for terrestrial plant life. This island, this palace was built to accommodate guests who cannot stay underwater for so long without breathing tanks, as most species of the Federation."

"Correct." She regards him with a knowing gaze. "But that was not what I've meant, Spock."

Flashes of a hand running over flaked blue skin, red walls, kisses, moans, soft mattress and tangled sheets and limbs come through Spock's mind.

"I am aware, Lady Liadlaw," Spock answer, fully composed, not even a jerk of a muscle.

She quietly laughs again. "I'm certain you are, _Muot_."

Spock lifts an eyebrow. "I request that you cease to address me such. Your reasons for summon, Lady Liadlaw. Surely, it is not to muse over past affairs."

"Of course, Spock," concedes the Lady Liadlaw, still smiling. "We spoke of the matters of confidentiality regarding my ability to manipulate a being's time."

"Yes. You also revealed that apoptosis is your species' only option when captured."

"We have encountered several beings from the known universe," she begins. "Others we've met here in Vaita, or visiting other planets. After the destruction of your homeworld, many _Mekh'iem_ has developed fear of contact from others, immediately restricting the entry of outsiders in our planet. You understand, yes?"

Spock silently shakes his head in acceptance.

"Yet we still trade our crystals to the Federation for the alliance to remain," she continues with a hint of remorse. "It is also an indication that if dire times come, the Federation will aid us."

"I assure you, Lady Liadlaw, Starfleet will give your species protection if necessary."

"_Nemaiyo_," she says, horizontally extending her long arm towards him. Spock does the same, his gloved-palm holding the Juggler's in a loose clasp. "Your ship, the _Enterprise_; I specifically requested the starship to which you serve to facilitate the renewal of the contract."

Spock cannot contain his perplexity. "For what reason?"

"I trust you, Spock," the Juggler states. "And I will believe anything you tell me."

"Anything is a dangerous word, Lady Liadlaw," he warns with narrowed eyes.

"Indeed." She puts her feet down the floor and retracts her hand from the hold. "Enjoy the feast, Spock. It is a pleasure to see you once again."

Spock leans forward, closing his eyes as he permits her to kiss his forehead and both his cheeks. The Lady Liadlaw departs whilst Spock remains in the balcony, confused.

Her declaration has resembled a farewell, as though they will never to meet again. Spock can only deduce, based on their conversation, that she harbors secrets with regards to the safety of her planet. Still, if that were truly the case, she would have told him.

Filing the event to the back of his mind, Spock decides to return to his Captain. It worries him, being away from the child for too long. He's only taken one step forward when his eyes meet Lieutenant Uhura's, who is standing by the balcony's entrance.

* * *

Lieutenant Nyota Uhura takes a sip from her glass of _arrack_ as she ambles to Spock's side, facing the ocean. "Nice night, huh."

Out of reflex, Spock elevates one brow, watching the lieutenant. "Yes." She has her hair tied differently for this occasion. Instead of the usual high-sweep fashion, she has it in a bun.

"What were you two talking about?"

"Matters surrounding the signed contract," he answers, obliquely and carefully.

One-point-two-eight minutes pass in silence.

Spock, assuming that the conversation is over, excuses himself. "If that is all, Lieutenant, I must search for the Captain."

Then she speaks, "Kirk's with Pavel and Sulu." The Vulcan dips his head in silent gratitude before moving towards the exit, but Uhura grabs his arm. "We need to talk, Spock."

"We may speak at a later time, Lieutenant," he says, masking the haste in his tone. "The Captain-"

"Did you think," she interrupts sharply, "that I don't know what the first gesture you exchanged means to the Jugglers? I'm not an idiot, Spock."

Her irritation is seeping through him. "Far from it, Lieutenant. The gesture was to convey trust between two beings. Offering one's hand denotes surrender of whole essence, by placing one's palm beneath the other's signifies acceptance."

"It is also a pledge of loyalty," she says. "If words get out that you've taken an oath to the Jugglers, you'd be viewed as a traitor."

Ah, now he understands. "Only if there is skin contact between the exchange, Lieutenant," corrects Spock. "Both the Lady Liadlaw and I are wearing glo-"

Glasses break, followed by loud yelps and then stunned silence.

For a second, Spock and Uhura look at each other in surprise. Then, they instantly rush back into the grand hall, their discussion forgotten as they go through the gathered crowd. Finally reaching the center of the cluster, Spock stops short, stunned.

There, the Captain stands surrounded by glass fragments on his feet. In his hand, he is gripping a shard, red blood flowing down.

"I want Spock now!" he screams in full sentence. "I want my Spock!"

Two, three _Enterprise_ officers attempt to catch Jim off guard, but Spock immediately stops them with a stern look. When they retreat, the Vulcan steps forward. "I am here, James." Jim turns and Spock, again, finds himself surprised of the conviction flashing in the child's tearful eyes.

Dropping the glass, Jim runs towards him. Spock catches him in an embrace, immediately standing as soon as he has him within his hold as Jim buries his head at the crook of Spock's neck, barely audibly crying his words between the sobs and sniffles. But to Spock, he can clearly understand his pleas.

Spock signals Lieutenant Uhura to take care of the matters and to apologize to the Jugglers for the disruption as he marches passed her and the bystanders, rubbing Jim's back soothingly. The Lady Liadlaw is also amongst the crowd, but she and the other Jugglers simply observe, appearing to have a comprehension of what has happened.

"Spock," calls Doctor McCoy as he jogs to him, worried. "Here." The Vulcan accepts the medical kit and the doctor watches them leave.

Spock goes out of the grand hall, into the passageway, where he places the sobbing Jim down on the floor. Resting on one knee, he takes a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wipes the child's tears. "Blow your nose." Jim obeys. Spock puts the damp cloth down on the floor before opening the kit.

He takes Jim's injured hand into his, examining its extent. There are three long laceration marks on the small palm, to which two runs along the four fingers. All are not too deep and he can see no shard imbedded in the cuts. In all honesty, he cannot fathom why Jim has done what he did. But that is for a later time to investigate. He will have to question Ensign Chekov and others who were present during the occurrence. As at this moment, his focus is on Jim.

Spock begins his work in silence, cleaning cuts first, before he applies slight pressure to stop the bleeding from the deepest gash. As the clotting continues, Spock uses the dermal regenerator.

"Spock," Jim whispers.

The Vulcan doesn't say a word, waiting for Jim to express whatever he wishes to.

"P-please don't l-leave me a-again," the child stutters. "I…" He drops his eyes down the floor and stays muted.

Finally the wounds are closed, although the skin is still tender, Spock puts the equipment back into the kit, assembles it with one hand while the other remains holding Jim's. He then looks at the child and says, "I will not, James."

Jim doesn't meet his eyes. "But y-you will."

"I will not," Spock reiterates as he inclines his head so he can look at Jim's eyes. "Do you not believe me?"

There is hesitance, that much Spock can see, and after a while Jim slowly nods. "Y-you will still."

"James," Spock almost sighs, lightly placing his other hand on the child's cheek and moving it to face him. "I apologize. You have my promise that I will never abandon you."

Jim studies him for several moments before he removes his hand from Spock and puts his arms around the Vulcan in an embrace; Spock returns the motion.

"I want treat," Jim mutters, making the Vulcan hang his head.

.

.

**TBC**

**

* * *

**_Nemaiyo_ means "Thank you";  
_Muot_ means "love (n.)" - a term of endearment;  
_Arrack_ is a distilled alcoholic drink in South Asia and South East Asia.

Thank you for reading! =)


	4. Ihwaz

**Chapter Title:** Ihwaz  
**Prompt:** Stuffed animal  
**Universe:** STXI  
**Rating:** PG (for the swearing)**  
Genre:** Friendship  
**Trope:** De-age/kidfic  
**Warnings:** None  
**Summary:** Spock is pleased and it's because of the starfish.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Star Trek & its universe; the (Pattern) Jugglers is not mine and another one (and another) belongs to TB - just borrowed them. =)

**Notes:** (1) A prompt from the **schmoop_bingo** card a friend gave me. (2) Not beta-read.

* * *

Admiral Christopher Pike hasn't moved from his frozen state in the last four-point eight minutes. He begins to think that the Admiral might be suffering from ankylosis, or other related disorders that could be due to the surgery he's had.

"Come again?" the Admiral requests, finally out of the daze. "I think my ears are not working."

The Vulcan obliges. "The _Enterprise_ cannot accept the mission or any mission that entails first contacts, possible military entanglements and exploration of uninhabited planets for at least twenty-seven days, Admiral."

"Wow," Pike blinks, formality long gone. "I think I need hearing aids, or an ear surgery. I'm calling my physician after this."

"You are not experiencing hearing impairment," Spock says, patiently. "Nor you are ill, Admiral."

"Maybe." Pike sighs and tangles his fingers over the desk, inclining forward. "You are aware that you are disobeying a direct order, Commander Spock. Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Before I do, Sir," says Spock. "I must request for this discussion to be unmonitored and unrecorded."

Pike gives him an skeptical look before reaching his hand out of the view. "Done."

"One moment, Sir." The Vulcan makes certain of the security of their conversion, blocking necessary channels and paths and setting up layers of protection codes to ensure their privacy. "As I have stated earlier, the mission to the Juggler's homeplanet, Vaita, has been successful and Starfleet has obtained a seventy-five Terran year trade of benarium crystals."

"I'm expecting a 'but' here," interjects Pike.

Pause. "There has been a mishap."

"A mishap," Pike echoes with a frown, then he groans, "What did Jim do this time? Did he try to sleep with the leader or one of her subjects? Her daughter? Is that why I'm talking to you right now and not him?"

Fascinating. The Admiral shows extensive knowledge of the Captain's customary flirty behavior, even though Jim has not and certainly will not do such acts to jeopardize any of their missions. "The Lady Liadlaw doesn't have a daughter, Admiral. Captain Kirk neither had engaged copulation with her nor any of her subjects and staffs before, during and after the negotiation."

"Did Jim eat something he's allergic to again?"

"Negative."

"Is he hurt? In comatose? McCoy holding him prisoner in Sickbay?"

He's not really sure about the last bit, but again, the Admiral has speculated wrong. "Negative, Sir. Captain Kirk is in optimal health, and Doctor McCoy is perhaps in the medical ward."

"Then what?" Pike asks, getting agitated. "Get to the point, Spock."

He braises himself. "Captain Kirk is currently… unfit for duty."

"Spock," warns Pike. "If you don't tell me what the hell is going on there, I'm going to court martial you for withholding vital information from Starfleet."

More like withholding information from _him_, Spock thinks to himself. It's not that he doesn't want to tell the Admiral of their current situation. He just doesn't know_how_ without revealing the true cause of the Captain's transformation. Spock may be a skilled orator, but he's a lousy liar - according to Jim, Nyota, Doctor McCoy and Admiral Pike himself, and he actually _believes_ that.

"Perhaps it is best that I show you, Admiral," he says instead. Quickly, he stands and walks out of the monitor's view.

"Spock? Where are you going?" Pike calls from the screen. "Oy!"

When Spock returns to his seat, Jim is on his lap.

"Oh-kay, this is unexpected," Pike says slowly. "Whose kid is that? I sure hope you guys didn't kidnap anyone. That would be a political relation's nightmare."

Spock ignores the Admiral's statements and whispers to the child's ear, "Please introduce yourself."

Jim meekly nods before looking straight to Pike's eyes. "My name's James Tiberius Kirk. What's yours?"

Silence descends upon them, lasting for ten-point-six seconds. Then the Admiral speaks, "You're _kidding_. Is this a prank?"

Spock can't help raising an eyebrow. "Vulcans do not engage in what humans call 'prank', Admiral. And I believe it is proper propriety to answer a question when asked."

"Oh like you did earlier on?" Pike bites back.

"Admiral," he beseeches.

"Fine," says Pike, rolling his eyes. He then looks at Jim. "I'm Admiral Christopher Pike of Starfleet Command. Nice to meet you."

"I don't like you," Jim suddenly declares, making a move to detach himself from Spock, but the Vulcan keeps him in place.

"Of course he doesn't," mutters the Admiral, too low for a human to hear but not for Spock. "How old are you, kid?"

"Four," Jim shortly replies. "What's it to you?"

Pike sighs, appearing tired and tad annoyed. "You're him alright. Snippy and has no respect for authority even at such age." He narrows his eyes to Spock. "You've got_a lot_ of explaining to do, Commander. Better start now before I demote you back to ensign."

An empty threat, but, "Certainly, Sir." He inclines his head down to Jim, murmuring, "You may return to your puzzles."

Jim looks up. "You're not going with me?"

"I will be with you after I have spoken with Admiral Pike," promises Spock as he sets him down.

The child looks at the screen, and then walks back to the sleeping area of the room without a word.

"Huh. He _really_ doesn't like me," remarks Pike when Jim's no longer in their sight or hearing range.

"Admiral?"

"The kid just glared at me, Spock," Pike explains. "I don't have to be a genius to understand that. Anyway, let's get back to the subject. What the hell happened?"

Spock starts to narrate the incident, which is very brief, since he's restricted to say anything more.

"That's it?" Pike says incredulously. "Jim and some of the crew went down to Vaita to negotiate, he gets turned to a kid and he's aging one year every twenty-four hours."

"Affirmative."

"And you're not telling me everything, Commander," the admiral accuses with a sharp glare. "You know who and what caused Jim's transformation. Tell me."

Calmly, Spock answers, "I cannot, Admiral."

Pike studies him carefully. "Commander, I order you to -"

"I _cannot_," Spock interrupts uncharacteristically, causing for Pike to gawk at him. "I meant no disrespect. I truly cannot divulge any more than what I have informed you, Admiral."

"Alright," sighs Pike. "I get it. I'll just tell the higher ups that _Enterprise_ needs to resupply to cover this up. Better go to the nearest starbase for that. Stay for as long as you see fit. Then, you guys are on charting duties."

Spock nods. "You have my appreciation, Admiral."

"Yeah, yeah," Pike says, dismissively waving a hand. "I still have to get your report on the negotiation, Spock. And oh, don't forget to concoct some brilliant believable lie about needing to resupply. Unless you guys actually do."

Spock doesn't refute him. "Understood."

"Take care of him. Pike out."

The screen blackens and Spock is left to stare at his own reflection. That actually went far better than he's anticipated. The _Enterprise_ has long left Vaita's orbit and is already en route to the nearest starbase at warp factor eight; their time of arrival will be two days and six-point-one hours. As Starbase 12 is located close to Risa, perhaps it is pragmatic to grant the crew shore leave.

"Is the old man gone?" a small voice asks.

Spock turns to see Jim peeking from the dividing wall. He stands and walks towards the child. "Yes, James, he is gone."

"I don't like him," Jim says, wrinkling his nose. "He's in the mi-milty."

Astoundingly, when Jim has turned three years old, he's been articulating several words in sentences, and appears to have a good comprehension of what he hears. It is such a large leap from when he was two. And now that he's gained another year, Jim is much more expressive with what he thinks, believes and feels.

"Military," corrects Spock, a hand on Jim's head. "As I am."

"You're different," Jim states firmly, holding Spock's gaze as he squeezes the undistinguishable plush in his arms.

Curious. "How?"

He carefully removes the Vulcan's hand from his head, clasps it tightly, and declares, "You're Spock."

* * *

The corridors of the seventh deck are buzzing with crewmembers who have just finished their shifts and who are on their way to theirs. They sometimes would halt their steps and whisper to their companions. It is of no use though, because Spock can still hear and understand their hushed conversations as he walks through the halls, Jim in tow.

From his peripheral view, he can see the child looking around and occasionally glaring to those he catches staring at them. In the least, Jim is quiet, hasn't even verbally attacked anyone since Spock has scolded him - gently, of course. He doesn't understand Jim's aversion and distaste of those in Starfleet, which is everyone, except for him - which is another oddity itself. Even those he has likened when he was younger are now disdained. When Spock's inquired for his reasons, Jim has answered him, truthfully.

A tug draws Spock's attention to the child.

"Do I really have to?" Jim whines.

This is the fourteenth time he's asked that exact question, and every time, Spock gives him the same reply. "Yes, James. It is required."

"But I don't like that place," the child insists. "It stinks there."

Spock stops in front of Sickbay's entrance, just far enough for the sensor to not detect them and stoops down on one knee, meeting Jim in the eyes. "We will not stay long. I am certain Doctor McCoy will finish swift with your medical examination."

"But-"

"James," Spock says gently. "It will be short."

Reluctantly, the child nods, despite the evident pouting of his lips. "Can I get treat after?"

Spock would have laughed if he were prone to such act. But, yes, he finds that he's amused. He gets up, eyes still on Jim when he says, "Only if you behaved."

Just as he's about to step into the medical ward, a large, moving object crashes into him, sending the said object toppling on the floor; Spock remains unaffected by the impact.

"Goddamnit!" cries Doctor McCoy, holding his nose as he sits up. "Watch where y-" He cuts himself off when he sees who he's crashed onto. The doctor swiftly gathers his limbs, standing, and without warning, he grabs Spock's front uniform with a forceful pull, but he's dragged back since the Vulcan stays in place.

"We need to talk, you green-blooded hobglobin!" he hisses behind the hand pressing his nose. He tries pulling him again but to no avail. "Move it!"

"Something the matter, Doctor?" asks Spock calmly, one brow elevated.

McCoy sputters something under his breath. "Damnit, just come with me!"

"And James?"

The doctor notices Jim and then turns his head to the room. "Chapel!" he bellows angrily. "Get Jim checked!" He faces the Vulcan with a glare. "Satisfied?"

Spock doesn't move for a moment before he looks at Jim, who is muffling his giggles. "I will return shortly." Only when Jim nods in agreement that Spock allows himself to be hauled by the highly irate Medical Officer. He spares a glance over his shoulder to see Nurse Chapel leading Jim further inside.

As soon as they've arrived in the doctor's office, McCoy detaches his hold of Spock, walking away from him to rummage around the room. He's able to procure a towel and immediately covers his nose with it, tipping his head up. Spock can see blood on McCoy's right hand as he continues to press the material to his nose with the other.

"You are injured," states Spock, wondering.

McCoy is still able to glower at him even with his head angled upwards. "_You _injured me, you damn hobglobin. You and your damn high-density clavicle! Be grateful you didn't break my nose or I'd slowly slice your damn pointy ears with an obsidian scalpel."

The eyebrow goes up again. Spock's fully aware of the Chief Medical Officer's collection of the various types of the aforementioned surgical tool. "If you recall, Doctor, you collided to me. I was merely standing by the entrance as the Captain and I waited for the door to fully open."

"Exactly," grumbles McCoy, now wiping the blood around his olfactory organ and its proximity before making twisting motions of his facial muscles. He carelessly tosses the towel on the couch after he's cleaned his hand. "You just stood there when you could have moved away! You're a damn Vulcan, you're supposed to have insanely good reflexes!"

Spock doesn't sigh. "You wished to privately speak with me," he states instead, steering off from the subject.

"Yeah," he grunts, resting against his desk as he repeatedly massages his nose. "Pike called, and apparently, a certain Acting Captain didn't tell him the whole truth."

"Did you?"

"What do you think?" growls the doctor. "Of course not! You made it clear that no one else should know. Even with the private channel he's used, I couldn't risk it." McCoy loudly exhales. "But Pike's got the right to know."

Unable to understand, Spock can't stop himself from asking, "For what reason?"

"Because it concerns Jim," the doctor says heatedly. "Pike's one of the few people Jim looks up to. The man means more to him than just the one who got him to join Starfleet, respects him not just because Pike's an admiral." He pauses, then, "Besides, Pike treats Jim like his _only favorite_ prodigal son. He cares and worries about him."

"Admiral Pike is aware of the Captain's condition," says Spock. "They have briefly spoken earlier."

"But Pike still doesn't know _how_ it happened or who did it."

"Indeed, Doctor," Spock agrees. "Whether or not the Admiral is to be informed of its cause, the current circumstances stand. The Captain will continue to grow one Terran year every twenty-four hours, he will remain unfit for duty until he's reached his correct age, and the _Enterprise_ still cannot accept missions that may lead to dangers until that time. We will only breach the contract that was agreed upon with the Jugglers if the Admiral, or anyone else, were informed."

After a long pause, McCoy concedes, "Fine. I get your point." He then walks passed Spock; the Vulcan follows him with his eyes. The doctor activates the coating of the room's large window, automatically dimming the lights in the office. The transparent aluminum becomes a one-way mirror, giving them a clear view of Jim sitting on a biodbed, without anyone seeing them.

"How did their talk go?" Doctor McCoy asks as he observes the child. "Jim and Pike, I mean."

Spock stands aligned with the doctor, hands clasp on his back. "James verbally stated his dislike of Admiral Pike."

"Same to all of us, huh," remarks McCoy. "Well, except you. He likes you, _a lot_."

"I have inquired regarding that matter," says Spock, watching Jim swinging his legs. "He dislikes you due to the smell of drugs and chemicals."

McCoy snorts, "Figures. Jim's hated infirmaries, doctors and nurses for as long as I've known him. He only likes me because I give him caffeine-rich serums to keep him going and I prescribe booze as an alternative medicine."

"You have also saved his life several times, Doctor," Spock adds.

"I know," is his response. "But that doesn't count."

Jim is currently squeezing tight his plush toy with both arms, protectively shielding it from Nurse Chapel's attempt to pry it away. It doesn't take long for the nurse to surrender, to which Jim smugly smiles.

"It is most curious that James is… attached to that particular object," observes Spock.

"You mean that potato sack he's holding?" McCoy rhetorically asks. "It's normal for kids his age to get attached to things, mostly because they feel alone and lonely. Wait until he creates imaginary friends. Kids also have that tendency. Don't worry though, he'll outgrow it eventually."

"From what I understand," Spock starts, "human children have more inkling to more… aesthetically pleasing and colourful items."

Time stops, and McCoy _very_ slowly turns to look at the Vulcan. "Did you just call Mister Oogie Boogie ugly?"

"I made no such assertion," Spock counters, trying to sound less indignant as possible.

"Oh you did!" McCoy laughs heartily.

"As I have stated-"

"Whatever, Hobglobin. Man, I wish I got that recorded." The doctor crosses his arms and returns to observe Jim, a wide grin still pasted on his face. "It depends on every kid. Some like colourful things, others go for the opposite. It's all about preference."

"I see," the Vulcan intones, studying Jim from the distance. "The object is called Mister… Oogie Boogie?"

"Yep," says McCoy. "Don't ask where it got its name, Jim never told me."

"The Captain has had the item since he was a child?"

The doctor shakes his head. "Nah. He got it around our first year in the academy. Don't know where or from whom either. He just came with it when we met for a snack in Skellington's diner outside the campus. Instead of going to a bar as we'd planned, Jim cancelled and went back to his dorm without giving me an explanation. From then on, he's had it on his study desk in his room."

"Most interesting," states Spock. "The object has also been displayed openly on the curio in his quarters."

"Yeah," McCoy agrees quietly. Then, he commands the light on and restores the window's default setting. "Let's go. Jim's results are up."

* * *

Spock silently studies the stuffed toy. Mister Oogie Boogie, as Doctor McCoy has called it, resembles a Terran echoderm of class Asteroidea. It is brown in colour, has four limbs representing its arms and legs, a pointed head, an elliptical set of eyes and a black line as its mouth. Jim has made no mention of its name, nor has he has given it one. The child is indeed very much emotionally invested to the inanimate object, carrying it everywhere he goes and always has it near his side.

After the conversation he's had with Doctor McCoy, Spock has researched regarding human children's tendency to keep stuffed toys within their proximity. The most reason he has gathered is that children tend to anthromorphise these materials, believing that it possesses an essence or a life force. It also serves as a companion, a friend who will accompany the child in solitude and help him or her cope with the fear of darkness and other intangible things.

As of present, the toy is placed against the wall on top of the table. He and Jim are in the recreation room in Deck 8, with Spock teaching the child tri-dimensional chess. The young Captain has grown bored of the puzzles, mind-stimulating games and books he was provided with three-point-eight hours ago. To keep Jim entertained - and prevent a tantrum - Spock has decided to teach him chess.

And Jim is quite learning the game faster than Spock has predicted. He shouldn't be surprised, but he is. Jim has shown high proficiency in understanding complex things that an average human child of his age cannot. Spock compares his brain development to that of a Vulcan child, but Jim's approaches to different problems are unconventional. For instance, when facing a three-dimensional photo puzzle, instead of moving the cubes to solve it (as one should), Jim breaks the cubes and assembles it accordingly.

The child also has demonstrated a remarkable aptitude in reading. Contrary to what Spock has believed, Jim doesn't like to read fictions or fairy tales. He prefers course texts such as history, elementary mathematics and science in general. Although there are still some (several) words Jim cannot understand, he still reads those topics, occasionally consulting Spock of the things he cannot comprehend. The subjects are of beginner's level, but the Vulcan is nevertheless impressed and can't help be proud of young James' brilliant mind.

"Don't worry," Jim suddenly says, moving the knight to the lowest level. "It's not going anywhere."

"You cannot move the knight in that position, James." Spock returns white knight to its prior place. "To what are you referring?"

He gestures his head to the toy. "Oogie. You're staring at it."

Spock doesn't correct him. Instead he broaches the child's attachment to the object, his curiosity getting better of him despite the research he has made earlier on. "I am merely curious as to why you refuse to let it out of your sight."

Jim shrugs, placing the knight on the second level; a correct move this time. "I don't want to lose it."

The Vulcan counters the move by threatening the knight with a pawn. "Would placing it in your room a better choice than carrying it around? That way, the chances of losing it would be less."

"I need it with me."

"Why?"

Another shrug. "It's a warning for the others."

"I believe I do not understand, James," Spock admits after much thinking. "Please explain."

Jim looks at him, blue-eyes piercing, but he doesn't say anything and so, Spock doesn't push the subject. They continue with their game.

Later, when Spock is to retire, Jim enters his quarters through their adjoined bathroom and climbs on Spock's bed. The child settles his head on Spock's torso as the Vulcan commands the temperature to be lowered by few degrees to accommodate Jim.

Surprisingly, the inanimate object was not with him. "Where is your toy, James?"

Jim hmmed, eyes close. "In my room. I don't need him here because you're here."

"Is that so?" Spock intones, strangely pleased.

"Oogie is the baddest of all monsters," Jim says with a nod. "I captured it, so it'll make other monsters go away. But I know you'll protect me better!" Spock's eyebrow elevates. "You're my _Ihwaz_, Spock."

There is a tingling in his gut that Spock doesn't wish to interpret. "I see. Thank you, James." He runs a hand through the child's hair.

"G'night," Jim mumbles before eventually drifting off.

Spock returns his attention on the PADD he's reading, a small smile on his lips. Even without Jim telling him that, Spock is certain that he will always endeavor to protect him, no matter what and no matter from whom.

That is an _Ihwaz's_ promise.

.

.

**TBC**

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Ihwaz = kind of means "defense". I took the liberty to translate it to "protector".  
PS. Oogie Boogie & Skellington (from _The Nightmare Before Christmas_) are owned by Mr. Tim Burton (and Disney, I suppose). ;p

Next update will be sometime in the third week of December.  
Thank you for reading! Comments are loved.


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